


Lose Your Heartaches.

by ohohstarryeyed



Category: Bandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-01
Updated: 2011-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 20:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohohstarryeyed/pseuds/ohohstarryeyed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon is an asshole who never forgets. Spencer reaps the benefits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lose Your Heartaches.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Um I wish there was an awesome explanation but basically this all comes down to a trade off that reni_days and I agreed on, so this is for you bb with all the hearts in the world. Cross dressing, bare-backing, chastity devices and ridiculousness. I really, really apologise for the terrible porn. Oh and it's un-beta'd.

It happens because Brendon is an asshole. It really shouldn't surprise Spencer how many of the stories he tells, or doesn't in this case, start with Brendon being an asshole but they do.

The thing is. The thing is it was a _joke._ Spencer had made some lame joke about Brendon being a Disney Princess in a former life and how Spencer himself was probably his Prince because out of the two of them he had the best hair and after some laughter and more innuendo than was necessary at a family food joint the subject had been forgotten. Except Spencer forgot the first rule of Brendon and that is that Brendon is an asshole who _never_ forgets. Ever.

Which is why Spencer really should have expected it when Brendon had come down stairs a half hour later than they had planned to leave for Pete's Halloween dressed as Cinderella.

*  
Spencer watches Brendon work the room and tries not to think about the way that Brendon looks like a fucking expert at walking in heels, or the way Brendon will occasionally sit down and cross his legs giving Spencer (and the room) the barest glimpse of stocking clad leg, or even the way, when Brendon leans forward to whisper in Shane's ear, the sleeve of his dress falls off his shoulder. It doesn't reveal a lot of skin, barely the smallest patch stretched over bony shoulder and collarbone but it gives Spencer a huge fucking problem in his pants.

Spencer's leaning against the wall halfheartedly listening to one of the Alexes, the earnest one with the hair and the cartoon eyes, when he gets the feeling he's being watched. He looks up just as the stupid fucking grandfather clock Pete had bribed them to help him move in sounds midnight. Brendon is giving him a meaningful look from across the room and then it all clicks and fuck Brendon, seriously. He is such an _asshole._ Of course he's going to make them leave at midnight but if he thinks that Spencer's going to be chasing his ass around town trying to fit a fucking shoe on his foot he's got another thing coming. Spencer laughs a little to himself because coming and yeah, maybe he's a little drunker than he thought but whatever. He's under stress and the one causing it is headed toward the door.

"Gotta go dude. Good to see you." Spencer mumbles and then he makes his way through the crush of people. He's so glad he decided to dress up as something sensible, even if the ray gun under his Men in Black inspired suit is digging into his hip, because he manages to get across the room and down the front stairs just as Brendon's hailing a taxi.

*  
It takes all of Spencer’s will power not to jump Brendon’s bones on the trip home. He’s really quite proud of himself to be honest. Unfortunately his will power only goes so far because they don’t even get the front door closed before Spencer’s pushing Brendon up against the wall, ignoring the sound of crashing when one of Brendon’s million layers take out an ugly fucking vase the decorator has insisted was chic.

“Uh uh Prince Charming, I’m not that kind of Princess.” Brendon pushes at Spencer but Spencer’s too busy working on a seriously masterful hickey to care. “Come on back it up.”

Spencer cries out when his toes crunch through his favourite dress shoes when Brendon stomps his heel down, grinding them like he would a cigarette. “Ow, fucking _ow_ ”

“No means no. It would serve you well to remember that sir.” Brendon adjusts his skirt and Spencer can’t tell what hurts more, the pain in his fucking toes of the fact that his dick is currently being being crushed by the increasing lack of room in his pants.

“Oh god you are a fucking tease and I hate you.”

Brendon grins, “I’m a fucking lady and it would be best that you remember it if you plan on getting under my petticoat.”

“Under your--” Spencer sighs because this is Brendon in a fucking dress and if Brendon wants to pretend that they’re in some (hopefully) porny version of a fairy tale than so be it. “Okay, okay, yes ma’am.”

“Much better.” Brendon turns and walks upstairs and Spencer practically falls over himself to follow him, dodging the broken porcelain on the floor.

Brendon’s sitting primly on the edge of the bed, one leg folded over the other and Spencer bites back the urge to point out that Princess’s don’t really sit like that, months of watching The Princess Diaries on repeat with his sisters coming back to haunt him.

Spencer crouches down in front of him and rests his hand on Brendon’s ankle. “Can I?”

“Mmhm. Slow.”

Spencer nods and slides the heels off Brendon’s feet. Spencer’s never really cared for feet as a rule but there’s something about Brendon’s feet wrapped in stockings that makes his stomach flip a little. He bites lightly at the tip of Brendon’s big toe and then kisses the arch, the heel and the inside of Brendon’s ankle, repeating the action when he slips the shoe off his other foot. Then Spencer starts to work his way up Brendon’s leg, kissing his calf and inside of his knee, stopping short at the frilly edge of Brendon’s skirt.

“Bren.” Spencer’s voice cracks like it hasn’t since he was sixteen but then again, he doesn’t think he’s been this turned on since he was sixteen and Brendon let him fuck him for the first time. Spencer’s praying to every god available that he lasts longer than he did back then.

“Hmm?”

Spencer nuzzles his face at the material just above Brendon’s knees, “Please.”

“Please what?”

Something about the way Brendon says it makes something shift in Spencer’s stomach, something tighten and then relax and suddenly he can hear himself begging Brendon without giving himself permission.

Brendon’s hand lands in his hair, tugging lightly, “Go ahead.”

Spencer really, really hopes that Brendon didn’t hear the noise he just made, the half whimper half fucking--god he doesn’t even know but it’s taking all of his will power not to tear the skirt and petticoat and god knows what the fuck else Brendon’s wearing straight off his body.

Spencer takes a shaky breath and pushes the skirt up slowly, revealing more stocking, then the top of Brendon’s thigh and holy fucking shit Brendon _shaved_ how the fuck did Spencer miss that and then... “I--what?”

Brendon is wearing something that looks suspiciously like the chastity device that the guy had worn in the porn that he had downloaded a couple of months ago. Spencer hadn’t made a big deal about it at the time but it was one of the hottest fucking videos he’d ever seen and he’d jerked off to the memory more than once in the shower, thinking about Brendon wearing one.

“Oh would you look at that.” Brendon grins down at him. His eyes are dark and there’s a flush high on his cheeks and Spencer wants to cry he’s so fucking turned on. He reaches out, his hands shaking and he runs his fingers lightly over the cage, over the smooth belt and the cool metal of the padlock.

“For--is--Bren?”

“You’re not subtle Spence. I saw your face and I know you’ve been thinking about it.”

“How could you tell?” Spencer doesn’t have the brain power to be mortified by the way his voice _squeaks._

Brendon laughs, “ Seven years Spence. I’ve picked up a thing or two along the way.”

“What do we--how--should I take it off?” Spencer feels like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs and he can feel sweat beading along his brow.

“You can.” Brendon lifts the chain that’s hanging around his neck and tugs it over his head. There’s a small key dangling from it and he hands it to Spencer. “The key.”

Spencer fumbles it, his hands still fucking shaking and it takes three attempts for him to unlock the padlock before he finally, _finally_ gets it unlocked and frees Brendon from the device. Brendon makes a soft noise and Spencer pushes up to kiss him, hot and desperate and fuck Spencer needs to fuck him _now._

“Bren I need--fuck please.” He’s begging and he honest to god doesn’t give a fuck and clearly neither does Brendon because he kisses Spencer so hard that their teeth clack together audibly.

Spencer tries to kiss Brendon deeper but it’s a bit hard when Brendon’s attention now seems to be elsewhere, digging around in a drawer and then there’s the sound of the lube bottle being uncapped and yeah, Spencer is so fucking okay with this turn of events.

“You. Naked.” Brendon pushes Spencer in the chest and hey, Spencer is awesome at taking orders okay? It’s like he’s totally this orders taking guy or like, he’s obedient and shit. What the fuck ever, the point is he’s trying to get naked and not come in his pants because Brendon is stretched out with his skirt pushed up working a second finger into his ass, _holy shit._

“Bren, fuck.” Spencer crawls back onto the bed and Brendon huffs out a laugh, his face red and flushed and he’s totally panting as he sinks a third finger in. Spencer trails his index finger over the clenched muscle in Brendon’s forearm and watches his fingers disappear into his body.

“Spence Spence I--fuck. Let me ride you.”

Spencer lets out an honest to god whimper and then he’s shuffling across the bed and laying on his back, resting his head on a pillow and makes grabby hands at Brendon. “Bren, fuck come on come on.”

Brendon straddles him, skirts pulled up high as he lines up and sinks down on Spencer’s dick and holy shit, Spencer will never, ever get over the feeling of being inside Brendon without a condom. They’ve been doing it for a little over a year like this and it feels like the first time, every fucking time.

Brendon’s sitting up ram rod straight, fucking himself rough and a little frantic and it takes Spencer a moment to figure out that it’s the corset that’s pushing him into that position. Spencer almost comes based on that thought alone.

“Spence fuck so fucking-- _fuck._ ”

Spencer moans and presses his fingers into Brendon’s thighs just where the stockings finish and his bare skin begins. He pushes his hips up, meeting Brendon half way and he’s not going to last much longer, not with Brendon making the noises he’s making, his breathing coming out rough and ragged, restricted by the corset and definitely not when Brendon wraps a hand around his dick and starts to jerk himself off, the noises hitting a higher register when he spills over his hand a moment later, head thrown back as he comes..

“Jesusfucking _fuck_ ” Spencer fucks up into him as hard as he can, his hips working off the bed frantically until something deep in his stomach snaps and he’s coming so hard he blacks out.

*  
When Spencer comes back around Brendon is sprawled across the bed panting and Spencer seriously doesn’t know how he manages to look so fucking sexy when really he should look ridiculous surrounded by so many layers of fabric. He’s still wearing his fucking stockings for christsake and Spencer can’t resist running his hand over the material.

“Next time you want to be a smart ass you can remember this.”

Spencer snorts, “I will don’t you worry.” He’ll remember it all right. He’ll remember and take every opportunity he can if it means Brendon in a dress.

“Yeah well next time I won’t make it so easy for you.”

“You are easy for me.” Spencer pulls on one of the suspenders attached to Brendon’s stocking and lets it snap back against his skin. “I fail to see how this is a threat.”

Brendon rolls off the bed and grins, that same fucking shit eating one from earlier in the night when he’d come down the stairs dressed as a fucking Disney princess. “Five words Spence. You in a chastity belt.”

Spencer entire brain short circuits and by the time he can even think to form sentences as incoherent as they may be Brendon’s already disappeared into the bathroom.

“Bren. Bren, hey Bren, what do you mean me in a chastity belt. Is that-- _Bren?_ ”

Laughter comes from the bathroom and Spencer grins, laying back on the bed. For now he’s happy to fill in the blanks.


End file.
